


Sarek's Trousers

by Sarek and Amanda Archive Maintainer (Selek)



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: F/M, Humor, Tegan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-25
Updated: 2013-03-25
Packaged: 2017-12-06 11:31:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/735170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selek/pseuds/Sarek%20and%20Amanda%20Archive%20Maintainer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story is bit of silly nonsense I wrote as a change from writing and reading Doctor Who fan-fiction. It’s my first Sarek/Amanda foray and my first venture into writing humour. The story is told gradually from the POV of different characters, so be patient. The title sums up the intention, so please don’t take it seriously.</p><p>Written by Tegan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sarek's Trousers

**Sarek's Trousers**

by Tegan

Rated: PG

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything from Star Trek and am just borrowing the characters for a bit of fun.

Summary: This story is bit of silly nonsense I wrote as a change from writing and reading Doctor Who fan-fiction. It’s my first Sarek/Amanda foray and my first venture into writing humour. The story is told gradually from the POV of different characters, so be patient. The title sums up the intension, so please don’t take it seriously. Oh and feel free to email with comments.

[sheenas@something.co.uk](mailto:sheenas@something.co.uk)

 

………………………………………………………………………………………                                               

 

Sarek’s Trousers.

 

 

Chapter One … _The former Receptionist_

 

Imported from every corner of the universe, the bar had an amazing selection of drinks. She scanned them with a somewhat unsteady eye, selecting her next sampling.  “Any Orion Gin?”

 

“Joking yes?” The smartly dressed Andorian raised his antennas at her. “Not Or’Gin, not legal and you not take it well.” He dipped his head and looked directly at her.  “You young lady who serves at embassy. Why not go and work now?”

 

“Did work.” She turned and glared gloomily at him. “You speak decent Standard, but you’re getting the past tense confused.”

 

“Much apologies, did-do, you no longer work yes. Drink here instead, not good.”

 

She picked up her glass and eyed him over the last of the Spanish brandy. “They sacked me about an hour ago. Now, what have you got that’s the same potency as Orion Gin … and also pink? That stuff over there.” She made an attempt to point, but her arm just wouldn’t stay still, the Andorian barman followed as the gesture encompassed the whole of his bar, ending on the stool next to her.

 

“You very drunk now, nice lady, not used to drink. I have water.”

 

“Great idea, give me some nice Scottish spring water and do me a favour,” she learned forward and tried to wink, “put a little whiskey in there too.”

 

“You upset yes?” He tilted his head, his antennas moving forward. “Embassy treat you bad.”

 

She began to turn on the stool and almost fell.  Collecting herself she tried to use the wayward arm and this time successfully managed to point to the magnificent Art Deco building opposite the bar. “The Vulcan Embassy…” she spoke in perfect high Andorian, with a royal accent, “treated with shame an honourable servant,” then thumped her chest to complete the statement, but that started a coughing fit.

 

“You speak excellent Andorian.”

 

“Yes, very good Andorian, but excellent Vulcan, five different Earth languages and a little Tellarite… I’m still learning that one. How about a beer?”

 

“Will serve you beer.”

 

She watched as he deliberately selected the weakest beer and picked up a very small glass. “Hell, lost my job and my reputation and now I can’t even get drunk, things are…” she closed her eyes concentrating for the right phrase in the right language, “…shit!”

 

He passed her the glass.  “Shit?” His head tilted trying to understand. “Why job gone? You work at door, yes?”

 

“Yes, I was a receptionist, I needed the experience for my studies and I was kinda hoping it would be a foot on the ladder to greater things, because I’m good.” She held her chin up in pride, then propped the beer glass under it to keep her head steady. “They told me my work was satisfactory, but my temporary contract would not be renewed. Then Selron said it was for my own good.”  Her face turned a slight shade of red and her chin fell off the glass; she decided to take another heavy gulp. “He thinks I’ve got a thing for the ambassador.”

 

“You want to kill the ambassador?” He smiled; it was obvious to him his translation had been incorrect.

 

“What? You know I think you’re right, I’m no good with alcol… alcol-hol… alcohol, it sort of gets to me.”

 

“What is this ‘thing’ you do with the ambassador?” Andorians are by nature an inquisitive people; he pulled up a stool and sat opposite her.

 

She looked at him imploringly, and then her shoulders seemed to give. “I just… well I just…” her skin colour changed again,  “I did something stupid and they don’t go in for stupid over there.”

 

“Very curious now.”  He poured her some more beer, then watched patiently as she took the glass and twisted it nervously in her hands.

 

“I got caught looking.”

 

“Looking? You spy for your government yes?”

 

“NO, no, no, no! It’s nothing like that.” She looked around as if about to divulge something highly confidential. “I was sacked for looking at the ambassador's ass.” She sat back and waited for a response.

 

“Ass?” There was a total lack of understanding.

 

“You know… bottom, posterior, backside, arse … err, let me think of the Andorian… I know, ‘ _toeya_ _’_.”

 

“ _Unting_?”

 

“ _Koy_!” she raised her glass to salute the correct translation.

 

He was laughing, “Funny, yes?”

 

“Hilarious.”

 

“And he sack you for this. It is compliment on Andoria.”

 

“Well ‘he’, thank heavens, didn’t know and I wasn’t technically ‘sacked.’ As I said, it was only temp work. They told me nicely to, well, go away… it’s a long story.” Looking up she tried to concentrate, but there was three of him, she addressed the middle one in Andorian. “What’s your name?”

 

…………………………………………………………………………………………..

 

 

 

Chapter Two … _Selron the Vulcan_

 

 

 

The ambassador was about to arrive and the embassy was still unacceptable. Selron scanned the reception area looking for the main ‘culprit.’  “Miss Grayson, why are there Humans still present, the embassy is now closed.”

 

The young women looked at the chronometer attached to her wrist. “As of five minutes ago Selron, these people need some time to gather their belongings if they’re suddenly told to pack up and leave. Surly Vulcan customs apply to courtesy of a guest...”

 

“Your interpretation of our customs is of no importance, please attend to your duties and have the reception cleared of tourists.”

 

“They are not tourists; it’s a cultural exchange visit…”

 

“Now, Miss Grayson.”  He always felt it necessary to interrupt her, before she detained him any further.

 

In his opinion, the new ambassador's insistence on employing a Human receptionist had been a rare mistake in judgement. Its consequences had been a detrimental reduction in the efficiency of his department. Miss Grayson had been adequate, but her presence had created distraction amongst his staff; they considered her ‘fascinating’ and consistently asked her irrelevant questions. Indeed, he suspected two of his staff to be deliberately engaging in unnecessary conversations with her to improve their spoken Standard. Miss Grayson’s approach to problem solving was also unpredictable and he occasionally found it challenging to supervise her, given that he found it impossible predict her responses and therefore was unable to assume her actions. Essentially Miss Grayson had to go; he just needed a reason to terminate her contract if she opted for a renewal. Unfortunately, so far she had failed to make an observable error.

 

He deliberately turned his back to her and watching carefully through the clear glass doors he spoke over his shoulder. “Miss Grayson, the ambassador’s vehicle is outside.” Selron was aware that his attitude to her was an insult.

 

“Yes, I can see.” Her voice betrayed some emotion, he suspected it to be impatience. “It’s just that Mrs Rimmer has lost her purse.”

 

Selron turned and raised a questioning eyebrow. “Purse?”

 

“It’s used to carry currency and personal items, a _keritch-eya_ _.”_

 

“It was definitely in my bag when I gave it to that young gentleman,” the aged human standing opposite Miss Grayson pointed a suspicious finger at Torn, one of his security staff.

 

Miss Grayson lips curved; it appeared as though she considered the unacceptable situation humorous. Her voice also seemed lacking in any Human urgency. “Are you sure it’s gone Mrs Rimmer?  Have another look.”

 

Torn suddenly stood to attention, looked past Selron and bowed his head. “Ambassador Sarek.”

 

Selron quickly turned but realised it was too late; he had not been properly prepared for the welcome. Indeed, he had even been caught standing with his back to the door. He hurriedly raised his hand to give the belated greeting.  “Welcome back Ambassador.”

 

Sarek’s hand was already returning the gesture without altering his pace, he swept passed, stopping momentarily to acknowledge the retinal scanner at security.

 

The elderly human’s harsh voice pierced the silence. “Is that the ambassador, Miss Grayson?  Is that the ambassador? Excuse me…are you listening...IS THAT THE AMBASSADOR?”

 

Selron looked at his receptionist; she stood, her head slightly inclined, the small smile still on her lips.  Something had grabbed her attention and she stared as through transfixed. He followed the direction of her gaze, realizing it was centred on the ambassador’s trousers.  He looked away quickly.  “Miss Grayson!”

 

“Oh,” her face instantly changed colour, “I’m sorry, I was…looking for Mrs Rimmer’s purse…” She seemed unable to finish the sentence.

…………………………………………….

 

 

 

Chapter Three …. _The Culprit Amanda_

 

 

Things were not going well and Amanda Grayson could feel them getting worse. She had carefully planed this cultural exchange for several weeks, basically to impress Silek, but everything seemed to be heading for disaster.

 

Amanda had met Silek two months ago, when she had been sent to his office to read through a difficult translation. The job had been easy; it was a sound bite of spoken Glaswegian, which the Federation had messed up in the translation, making the text sound suggestively rude. However, the meeting had left her enchanted with the Vulcan. He was charming, approachable and (for a Vulcan) pleasant.  He had even understood the crude hummer in the incorrect translation, commenting ironically on T’Pau’s reaction at first hearing it. He was the brother of the Vulcan ambassador, but more importantly, he ran Marketing and Media on an interplanetary scale.  Now, that interested her. Planetary Media was a whole new field and she knew she had the personality and linguistic skills to break into it. She had left his office determined to get a post in his department, she just needed an opportunity to show off her talents.

 

As a result, Amanda had arranged a cultural exchange. On the surface it had been a great opportunity to invite local people and news stations into the embassy and give them a ‘taste’ of Vulcan life. In reality, she could play host to the local news stations, getting her name in the media and noticed by Silek. Unfortunately, her present boss Selron had seen right through it.  He’d even unsuccessfully attempted to veto the visits.

 

The exchange had been scheduled over the last three days – today had been the final visit. Yesterday had been a tremendous success.  She had even managed to arrange an interview with Silek for UNV News, and the Vulcan had been impressive. Then today had been a catastrophe.

 

“Ambassador Sarek is returning early, Miss Grayson; it appears there has been a problem with the negotiations. Security is on alert and I would like everyone removed.” Selron seemed almost ‘smug’ when he had given the order.

 

“But I have thirteen guests and two news stations.”

 

“Then remove them, security at present is on priority.”

 

“But, it’s going to be difficult…”

 

“Would you like me to call security and have the tourists removed more efficiently, Miss Grayson?”

 

He hadn’t been bluffing; Selron would have everyone escorted out at gun point if it proved effective.

 

Most of her guests had taken the announcement badly, except the news stations.  They had immediately begun happily filming the enforced evacuation. She’d decided to brave it out and was now politely urging the last cameraman out of the doors without appearing to be rude. Of course, it didn’t help that Selron kept intermittently moaning at her. However, the local sheriff had refused to go.  As she was frantically looking for something and glaring at a security guard… Amanda could feel the impending disaster.

 

“What seems to be the problem, Mrs Rimmer?”

 

“It’s my purse, it’s just gone.”

 

“Miss Grayson, the ambassador’s vehicle is outside.”

 

“Yes, I can see,” she tried hard to curb her impatience, “it’s just Mrs Rimmer has lost her purse.”

 

Selron turned and raised a condescending eyebrow. “Purse?” He obviously didn’t understand the importance of the missing article.

 

“It’s used to carry currency and personal items, a _keritch-eya_ _.”_

 

“It was definitely in my bag when I gave it to that young gentleman.”  The old lady pointed at Torn, one of the security staff and stiffened herself expecting a challenge, but the young Vulcan merely looked through her.

 

Amanda considered her options; perhaps she ought to distract the old girl by getting her to double check her bag, while personally escorting her out of the embassy by the back door. She adopted what she knew to be a reassuring smile as she moved around the reception desk.  “Are you sure, Mrs Rimmer, that it’s gone?  Have another look.” But then Torn spoke and she looked across to see him standing at attention.  Turning her head further she watched as the Vulcan ambassador himself came through the embassy doors.

 

He moved so quickly that Amanda was frozen, amazed at the speed. It was like watching a panther on the wildlife holo-channel. His sudden explosive appearance was thrown out of context by the deceptively and seemingly casualness that he always adopted. There was power and grace in every step.

 

Selron stood clumsily in his way, but Sarek just swept passed, his eyes briefly resting on everyone and moving his hand almost automatically.

 

Her eyes followed him; he always moved like a panther, dark, black and hungry, but something was different about him today, something odd. She realised he wasn’t wearing his normal heavy ambassadorial robes, instead he wore a tightly fitted brown suit that was far more figure hugging. The movement of muscle below the clothes was now obvious, and watching the play of the skin under the material, she decided his clothes were a size too small. Sarek’s trousers were definitely fitted a little too tight around the hips. At the top of the legs she could actually see the outline of his underwear and she could swear he was wearing a pair of Speedos…. 

 

“Miss Grayson!”

 

She was pulled away from her thoughts and surfaced into reality, where she was the centre of attention. Selron glared at her with a momentary look of horror on his features and Mrs Rimmer was shouting something. Only Torn ignored her, but he seemed to be frantically searching Sarek’s trousers for some unseen threat.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry.”  She could feel herself burn with embarrassment and couldn’t think of anything sensible to say. “I was…looking for Mrs Rimmer’s purse.”

 

Composed now, Selron merely raised his eyebrow again, but Mrs Rimmer went for the throat. “Well you certainly won’t find it there, my dear.”  She turned and pointed at the ambassador's retreating backside.

 

…………………………………………………………………………………………..

 

 

 

Chapter Four… _Ambassador Sarek_

Sarek was immediately aware of the cameraman as he ascended the steps of the embassy. He deliberately turned away and began to quicken his pace; such negative publicity would be highly beneficial, especially if it appeared that Vulcans were prepared to withdraw and close ranks.

 

Sarek had now realised the only way forward in the present negotiations was to appear to retreat. It was not logical, but the Ryan ambassador appeared not to comprehend logic. He had failed to realise the detrimental consequences of his persistent stalling and accusations. Over the past two point three days he had deliberately offended each senior diplomat in attendance, leaving Sarek himself until last. That insult had been vigilantly timed, and was instantaneously followed with an unreasonable request.  Sarek had no alternative but to depart. He had also ordered all other Vulcan diplomats onto alert status, sending out a clear message of disapproval across the Federation.

 

The Ryans were a highly paranoid and deeply suspicious race, almost certainly because, as a mineral rich planet, they had been invaded so often. Still, they had gained little sympathy within the Federation, as they also proved to be extremely arrogant and often openly offensive. They had demanded certain ‘conditions’ to the negotiations from the outset and so far Sarek had accepted every one, however illogical. The bowing of heads when talking had been simple to adopt, even avoiding direct eye contact had been effortless, (and that one had been the undoing of the Tellarite ambassador.) Keeping his hands always forward and visible had proved more taxing, as it was a natural Vulcan stance to hold hands clasped behind the back, but he had risen to the challenge. His hands and every other diplomats attending were firmly under control. Even the wearing of clothes had been forbidden, as garments concealed weapons. Sarek had managed to gain a compromise by insisting that all the diplomats who inherited a cultural privacy about their bodies wore suitably tight garments instead. As a result some delegates had appeared naked, others in underwear, but those who wore clothing had chosen garments that clearly offered no opportunity for concealment. However, that compromise was a weakness the Ryans had been prepared to exploit.

 

This morning, halfway through his meticulously prepared speech on the importance of gaining progression, Sarek had suddenly been interrupted; he was openly accused by the Ryan ambassador of concealing something… in his trousers. This was followed by demands to remove them. The negotiations had simply fallen apart at that point. Shras the Andorian had thrown his head upwards in laughter, and the Lemnorian delegation, (which consisted mostly of females,) were actually cheering and waving their large hands in every direction. Sarek had simply bowed his head further, turned his hands palm upwards and suggested the meeting be cancelled as several of the conditions requested had now been broken, then he walked out.

 

Now, as he entered the embassy, he permitted himself to experience relief, despite the failure. Everything here would be consistent; here he would regain stability, peace and normality. Here he would consider carefully his next move before the mandatory call came from the Federation petitioning him to return to the talks tomorrow.

 

He heard his name as the doors opened, it was the routine announcement by the security guard on duty and he adjusted his hand to return the traditional greeting from Selron.

 

“Welcome back, Ambassador.”

 

As he moved to the retina scanner, he glanced at the upturned lips of the Human female who manned reception, her smiling face was an accepted presence and a welcome contrast to Selron’s. It had been a successful experiment to engage a Human; logical considering most of the visitors to the embassy were also Human. It would now be difficult to replace her; however, his bother Silek had requested her promotion into his department only this morning. Sarek searched his memory for her full name.

 

A human voice pierced his thoughts, “Is that the ambassador Miss Grayson?  Is that the ambassador? Excuse me…are you listening...IS THAT THE AMBASSADOR?”

 

Amanda Grayson.  Sarek now recalled how Silek had delivered an impressive list of her credentials, unusual that she had achieved so much at such a young age, especially for a Human. It would be potentially interesting to test her Vulcan linguistic skills, especially on pre-reform terminology.

 

However, he still needed to inform her of the promotion and before the lift doors closed, he looked back and considered calling her over, but she seemed to be earnestly engaged in conversation with Selron, so much so that her face had somehow changed colour. He would delay the announcement and arrange the transfer to start automatically consecutive of her temporary contract in reception. Therefore, the transfer would start the following day and would be a surprise for the Human.  They seemed to enjoy surprises.

 

The doors closed and Sarek slumped heavily against the mirrored wall, looking downwards through force of habit. At his feet was a small bright pink bag and picking it up he examined it with interest.  A _keritch-eya_ _._   Obviously someone had dropped it. He would have to hand it in to reception later, a convenient opportunity to engage in conversation with Miss Grayson. He attempted to stuff the _keritch-eya_ in his trouser pocket but they were far too tight.

 

He needed a change in clothes and to meditate and then consider the situation with the Ryans.

 

 

………………………..

 

 

 

Epilogue… _The Andorian Barman_

****

****

**“** My name isFrederick.”

 

She started laughing; everyone always did when he said it.  “But that sounds Human.”  

 

“Frederick is Andorian name, you read poem ‘Frederick Blu, The Andorian Warrior,’ by Gearn.” He could feel his antennas straighten in anger.

 

“I’m so sorry Fredrish, Fred-er,” she giggled, “can I just call you Freddy? You’re right, I’m so very drunk and not at my best, but…”  She never finished, the communicator attached to her sleeve started to bleep. “Oh shit!” she jumped and looked at her arm.

 

He leaned forward, “Someone wishes to talk, yes.”

 

“It’s the embassy.” She looked at him in horror.

 

“That’s good, yes.”

 

“NO, I can’t speak now; I can’t even say your name let alone say anything in bloody Vulcan.” She removed the bleeping device and threw it across the bar.

 

He picked it up and curiously pushed the receiver.  It spoke.   “ _It's Ambassador Sarek, Miss Grayson._ ”  

 

Frederick looked at the communicator in disbelief and then pushed the device back at the young human, but she crossed her hands and shook her head, her eyes wide with panic and mouth firmly closed.

 

The communicator spoke again. “ _Miss Grayson?_ ” It sounded so authoritative that Frederick felt compelled to answer.

 

“Much apologies, Miss Grayson not here, could leave a message, yes.” He smiled with false confidence at the Human; however, her blue eyes were now huge and she looked ill.

 

“ _With whom am I speaking?_ ”

 

“Frederick, I am your servant, Ambassador.”

 

“ _Why are you in possession of Miss Grayson’s communicator?_ ”

 

Frederick needed help, but the trembling being before him had now hidden her head entirely under her arms.  Only a few dark curls of hair could been seen below her sleeves. “Miss Grayson a good friend, she visits and leaves communicator here, very upset,” he glared at the small device and added, “she is treated with dishonour.”

 

“ _Indeed, Miss Grayson is under the impression her services at the embassy have been terminated. Where can I find her?_ ”

 

Frederick looked at the trembling curls again and felt sudden sympathy, “Miss Grayson gone home, no names, not secure, will tell her message, yes.”

 

“ _That is acceptable Mr Frederick_.” There was a slight hesitation and Frederick could faintly hear a strangely accented voice in the background shouting; something about hands not forward, but Sarek seemed to ignore the noise. “ _Tell Miss Grayson that there has been a misunderstanding with the termination of her employment; she has effectively been transferred. The error was entirely with her former supervisor.  He neglected to check the transfer before talking with Miss Grayson. She can report to Silek’s department at sixteen hundred hours today_.”

 

The Human’s head shoot up at that, but she swayed unsteadily on the barstool.

 

Frederick considered the likelihood of getting her sober within two hours. “Not possible yes, very upset, gone for days. I tell her she still have job, she will come home tomorrow, yes.”

 

“ _Tomorrow at nine hundred will be sufficien.  Tthank you for your assistance Mr Frederick.   Sarek out_ ”

 

Frederick let out an audible breath of relief and shoved the communicator into the Human’s hands with determination; she subsequently fell off her barstool and onto the floor.

 

He leaned over the bar to see her lying on her back, a huge smile enhancing her already beautiful face. “You very happy now, yes?”

 

“Gloriously,” she pulled herself up and managed to make her smile go further, “but hasn’t he got the most gorgeously sexy voice ever?”

 

Frederick laughed, the tension now released. “Sexy voice, nice _unting_ , you like this ambassador, yes?”

 

“Like Sarek?” The smile disappeared as she seemed to consider the possibility for the first time. She pulled on her overcoat, leaning forward and upwards to lightly kiss him on the cheek. As she moved back her smile returned. “He’s a wonderful job-giving Vulcan who will probably never be liked by anyone as much as me at this moment, bless him... Yes Freddy, right now I love him more than anything!”

 

 


End file.
